He Knows
by Lafayette1777
Summary: They have what everyone is searching for. A collection of one-shots, some connected, others stand alone. Mostly Beck-centric, with a healthy serving of Bade, of course.
1. Bliss

**Author's Note: I don't watch Victorious very often, but when I do Beck and Jade are my favorite part of the show. And they are the epitome of adorable in "Wi-Fi in the sky", so I had to write something. I might add another one-shot, though I don't really have another idea lined up...I'd be welcome to ideas or recommendations! Also, all reviews are brilliant!**

"_Your girlfriend's pretty."_

"_I know."_

He isn't entirely surprised they end up arguing after Ally leaves. They scream at each other at least once a day—it's practically a ritual. He'd be worried if they didn't. By the time Jade smacks the laptop closed he's trying not to laugh hysterically.

"What?" She's still shouting, but her voice is lighter, she's almost smiling.

"You're funny."

"Shut the hell up, Beck."

"You have to admit that was a little amusing."

"You making me jealous on purpose so that you could make me look stupid when your _nine year old_ cheerleader came back to get her dog?" She says it quickly, flustered, which is almost making him laugh harder, because a Jade caught off guard is such a rare sight he has to enjoy it.

"Yes."

"Fuck you."

"Love you too, sweetie."

She scoots closer to him, and he's not sure if he's going to get hit or kissed. They're equally likely, which almost makes him laugh again. She always does manage to out him in a good mood, it seems, even when he knows he's gonna fail Gradstein's assignment tomorrow. He feels bad for a moment about blowing off Tori—it'd take a miracle for her to pull together the last seven pages by herself—but he'll admit that he'd much rather be making out with Jade than working on a project. And even if she had hit him, that would be the inevitable ending. It always ends with kissing.

That's not a complaint. By any stretch of the imagination.

Minutes later, they relearn that there's a thin line between love and hate, and that passion can go both ways. Also that angry sex is the best kind of sex, because you're never angry afterwards.

His bed is just big enough for the two of them, the perfect size, really, so that they can't lie in it without pressing close together. He finds his iPod and they laugh and talk and listen to music and forget about every other thing, every other person, every other invading thought. They know they have what so many are looking for—the ability to let go of grudges and go back to finding the things they love in each other. It isn't easy, but they know the drill.

They are disrupted by a knock on the door, and Beck's dad's yelling.

"Beck! Jade's dad is here, says he doesn't know where she is!" He calls. "She in there?"

"Shit." Beck whispers. "You didn't tell your dad you were coming over here?"

"I thought he was working late and wouldn't notice."

"Beck?" His dad shouts again.

"Yeah, she's here." He replies, leaping to his feet and scanning the room for clothes. "One second!"

Jade follows suit, pulling on a shirt as she simultaneously pulls back her mussed hair.

"That's my shirt." He says.

She gives him a look.

"Nevermind." She'll listen to him sometimes, but this is not that time.

"Jade?!" Her dad pounds on the RV door. "What's going on in there?"

"Nothing, just looking for my phone!"

"Come on out, right now."

She doesn't reply. Her father—the other man who's opinion she cares about.

"Pants, don't forget pants!" She whispers, reaching for the latch on the door.

"Right, right." He's tightening his belt just as she opens the door to the cool night, and two middle aged men.

"Good evening, Mr. West." Beck says, appearing at her side.

The man just looks at their disheveled appearances, and beckons for Jade to follow him. She does, smiling at Beck over her shoulder, an expression he returns.

He watches her until the red lights of her father's car disappear into the darkness.

"See ya in the morning." He says to his dad quickly, before the older man get in a word, and slips back inside the RV. The door closes and locks behind him.

He slides back into bed, turning on to his side to face the wall. She's left her own shirt behind, one of her many black blouses. It's draped over the chair across the room. He reaches out to pull the cord on the light.

He dozes off, relishing in the fact that half his bed is still warm.


	2. Hysteria

**Author's note: This is after The Worst Couple, in which Jade and Beck are broken up. :( This chapter may be overdramatic and overdone. Please review!**

"Beck, it's Andre."

"Unlocked, as far as I know."

It's not his room. He's only ever been here once—when Jade split open her hand with a pair of scissors and bled all over the carpet of his RV. She said it was fine but he took her to the emergency room anyway. They waited for two hours in the waiting room. It took fifteen minutes for the doctor to tell them that it didn't need stitches and hand them a bandage. Jade never let him hear the end of it.

He's not in the emergency room now, just a regular hospital room. It's all white and pastel, but industrial at the same time. There's one window, looking out on some Los Angeles street. He's alone, which seems odd to him, but's he just woken up, so everything's a bit fuzzy.

He runs a hand through his hair. It's disgusting; a mix of hair products, sweat, and blood. When he lifts his arm, something tugs on the back of his hand, and he struggles for the correct term for it. It starts with an _I_, he's sure. _Intravenous. _That's it. He's seriously out of it, can't focus on anything past his hands in front of him.

Andre comes in, trying to smile. "Hey, man."

"Hi." He props himself up on the pillows behind him.

"How you feeling?"

He rubs at a spot above his eye. It stings. "I've been better, I think."

"Doctor said you had a concussion and a bunch of cuts and bruises, and one broken rib." Andre explains. "Do you, uh, remember what happened?"

He has to think about it. He hasn't even contemplated what put him in this room, so mystified by the new setting and his banged up brain. Now he looks back, and he can relive it, unfortunately.

_He's gotten her to smile, finally. That is the whole point of this trip, even though they aren't actually going anywhere. Just driving. He just needs to talk to her somewhere where she can't walk away. His truck on the interstate seems like a good idea, and he even manages to convince her to do it. Despite their fragments of a relationship, he still has some influence on her. _

That's his last lucid memory, before everything's a flash of lights and the crumpling of metal and glass and pain in his head and arms and body. Fear and worry mixed in their somewhere as he hears her terrified scream, untainted by her usual anger or sarcasm. Just fear as he reaches out for her and can't get a grip before everything goes to hell. Something happened quickly, and his mind doesn't have to be fully functioning to know that he fucked up. There's a flash as he's loaded on to a gurney by the paramedics, and then he's here, with Andre.

"Jade...where's Jade?" He asks immediately, panic tightening his chest, just like the night in the car.

Andre touches his shoulder, guiding him back into a relaxed position. "She's fine, man. She's got bruises from the seat belt. You got it way worse than her."

"Christ." His headache sends searing pain over his skull. "I really fucked up, didn't I?"

"It wasn't your fault."

"Who'd I hit?"

"An eighteen wheeler."

"Holy fuck." He takes a moment to ponder whether that phrase is an oxymoron, then looks at his hands, a little more shocked than before that he's alive.

"The driver drifted off, swerved into your lane. Smacked into your driver's side and sent you off the road. There's nothing you could've done. The truck driver's pretty hurt, but he'll live."

_She shouldn't have been in that car in the first place. I should never have dragged her along. I had no right._

Andre looks at his expression and seems to read his thoughts. "She's fine. No harm done. She doesn't blame you."

"You've talked to her?"

"Yeah, she went back to school yesterday. It was lunchtime, so I decided to come and see you. The others are coming over later."

"My parents?"

"Getting something to eat."

"How long have I been out?"

"Couple days."

The more he thinks about it, the more vivid those few last moments in the car become. It feels like it has just happened. But time is alien to him right now; all he knows for sure is that his head hurts bad.

The talk a while longer, and then Andre has to go back to HA. A nurse comes in, hands him a couple of painkillers to throw back. He does so gratefully. His parents come back from lunch. And he spends far too long telling them that he's ok now, apparently, that they need stop crying. They end up yelling at him for totaling his car, which he takes in silence, his face impassive. Yes, he'll get it fixed. Yes, he'll be more careful. Yes, he understands exactly how badly this incident could have gone.

"I'm sorry." He says quietly.

His mother hugs him, and he sniffles like an idiot.

They let him sleep after that, and he's glad to finally close his eyes after the blinding sunlight from the window.

He awakes again some time later, reaches for the iPod on his bedside table just as the door bursts open and Tori, Cat, Andre, Robbie, and Trina enter bearing the usual hospital gifts and such.

He smiles at them, but Andre can see his searching eyes. He nudges Tori, who looks caught off guard.

"She's, uh...at a doctor's appointment." She lies badly.

He nods, and lets it go.

Andre said she isn't mad at him, but lies are not unheard of.

m m m

She has her hands on the wheel, her foot on the gas, but the keys are still in her lap, and so she is at a stand still in every way possible. Streetlights cast her street in a sepia glow, blocking out the stars.

She lets out a string of swears, practically growling as she angrily throws a lock of dyed black hair over one shoulder.

"Fuck it." She mutters, and starts the car.

A psychiatrist could go on and on about why she deliberated so long.

She gets on the highway, and tries not to look at the spot where it had happened. But she can't forget the spot. She won't, probably ever. At the moment, though, broken glass still litters the spot, pieces of twisted metal and shards of rubber. They've hauled off both vehicles, but she'd bet money that traces of Beck's blood are still on the asphalt.

Of course, she'd end up thinking like _that._

She touches the bruises along her collar bone and sternum, and goes through it all in her head again, as she's been doing non stop since it happened.

_She's sitting on the bottom stair at Hollywood Arts with one earbud in, skipping sixth period, when he appears from behind a vending machine. He angles his feet toward her, and she watches him approach. She should get up and walk away, she knows, but she doesn't. Once he makes eye contact, she's frozen in place. _

_They barely talk anymore, which is a good thing. They'd end up screaming at each other, without a doubt. They always did before. _

_He sits down next to her without hesitation. _

"_I want to talk to you."_

"_Is that so." She discreetly pauses the song, but keeps the earbud in so she has the option to ignore him. _

"_Not right now, though."_

_She raises an eyebrow. _

"_Tonight. I wanna take you someplace."_

_She gives him a look. "Some girls would consider that unbelievably creepy."_

"_You know me." He smiles slightly. "And I know you well enough to not mess with you if I intend to keep my front teeth."_

_She narrows her eyes at him._

"_Be at my house at eight." He says, then gets up and walks away. _

She scowls at the road ahead of her. Maybe if she'd said no, if she'd just blown him off, he'd never have gotten in the car that night. Or maybe she could just have been a few minutes late, so that someone else would have been smashed by that eighteen wheeler. But she wasn't, and they were in the wrong place at the wrong time.

_They don't talk for a while, once they're on the highway. She doesn't bother to ask where they're going, and he stares straight ahead. _

"_If this is some elaborate plot to murder me and dump me in the woods, I have __three pairs of scissors and a switch blade in my purse." She threatens. _

"_Jade, I'm not going to murder you, or date rape you, or drop you off in the middle of nowhere." He smiles. "Come on, man, you know me."_

_She pauses, looking at him as he keeps his eyes on the road, one arm casually on the wheel. "It's been a while."_

"_Yeah." He glances at her out of the corner of his eye. "Where'd the switch blade come from?"_

"_Actually, that one I made up."_

_He laughs, or chuckles really, and much to Jade's dismay it's infectious. A giggle breaks through her gloomy facade, and she tries to hide it from him with one hand. He sees through her easily, and laughs harder. _

_He turns to meet her eyes for the first time, and that's when it happens. _

_Bright headlights blind her, and seconds later there's a deafening crack, and they're careening sideways. Broken glass falls into her lap, and a scream fills her ears. The seat belt cuts into her neck and the airbag blows up in her face. _

_She can feel the wheels on the left side, Beck's side, come up from the ground, feel the gravity shift around her._

Oh, God, please don't flip_. She manages to plead in the chaos of everything. Everything's happening to fast, she can't control her own body as it's tossed sideways. But, thank God, the truck rights again, on all four wheels. They skid a few more feet, and come to a grinding halt. _

_Behind her, the eighteen wheeler, is still rolling, crashing through the guard rail and onto the grass beside the freeway. _

_She sits, frozen, in her seat. A few cars go whizzing by, and then a few stop, realizing what's happened. Their headlights bring her back to reality. The windshield is no more, the airbags deflated in front of each of them. The contents of her purse is spread about the cab. A pair of scissors is at her feet. _

_She looks over at Beck, silent and unconscious, or so it would appear. _

_She struggles with her seat belt, hysteria rising in her throat. She scoots toward him desperately._

"_Beck? Beck?!" Blood is dripping down his face, and he is slumped against the door limply. _

_She reaches for him, feels his cold skin. _

"_Babe?"_

_Just then her door is flung open, and a man in his thirties stands looking in. _

"_Miss? Are you alright?"_

_She's barely coherent. "Please, help him. He's really hurt."_

"_We called an ambulance. Can you stand?"_

_She nods, and realizes there are tears dripping down her face as he helps her to the ground. Together, they throw open the destroyed driver's side door, and drag Beck's unresponsive form onto the ground, where she can hold on to him and try to dab at the blood on his face. _

"_You know him, I presume?" The man asks._

"_He's my boyfriend." She replies without thinking. _

"_How old are you?"_

"Seventeen."

_An ambulance pulls up loudly, and traffic is redirected. Paramedics take him from her arms, and he moans slightly as they lift him on to a gurney. _

"_His name is Beck Oliver." She tells one of the EMTs as they rush him off. Another stays with her, leads her to a place where he can examine her. _

"_What's your name?" He asks. _

"_Jade West."_

"_Are you from around here?"_

"_Yes, I go to Hollywood Arts." _

"_Do you have a number we can reach your parents at?"_

"_Yes." _

"_We're going to have to take you in to get X-Rays." He tells her. "Do you know the driver?"_

_He continues with this line of questioning, and kind of calm falls on her as they __load her in an ambulance and begin to drive. It doesn't last, though, because soon her hands are shaking and she's once again close to tears. Someone says she's in shock. She doesn't disagree. _

_They call her dad, and deem her well enough to go to school the next day. She goes to her locker thinking that maybe she won't have to repeat the events of last night to her friends, but no such luck. The moment Cat catches sight if her bruises they all freak out and she caves. _

_She tells them and they ask how Beck's doing and she honestly can't answer._

And so here she is.

She parks and heads inside. It's after visiting hours, so she tells them he's her brother. They don't quite believe her, but with her look, they don't have to. She's lead up to his room.

He's asleep, his parents are nowhere to be seen. She stands at threshold for a moment, looking at him, before stepping to the end of his bed. She picks up the chart, but puts it back after scanning the medical jargon without success. When she looks up again, his eyes are open.

"Hi." She says, staring a him in surprise.

"Hey." He replies, and then pauses for a long time. "Are you mad at me?"

For a while, she says nothing. "No."

She comes around to him, takes his hand in hers. "Can't stay mad at you."

He smirks. "Yeah, you can."

"Ok, I can, but not this time, cause it's not your fault."

"Good." He looks tired, squeezing her hand gently. "Don't leave."

She doesn't.


	3. Cautious Optimism

**Author's note: Ok, so here's another chapter for everybody! Thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far, you guys are great! I think I have at least one more chapter for this, but don't hold me to that. Enjoy!**

"If it comes out of your pants, it comes home in your pocket."

Beck's eyes widen at the older man, before quickly directing his gaze to the carpeted floor. "Yes sir."

Jade's father nods, satisfied at successfully scaring the ninth grade boy into abstinence for the night. Sex is an abstract concept for the boy, especially for a first date.

Jade finally appears at the top of her staircase, taking in the scene. Beck, his face pale, her father, smiling slightly. Ugh.

She has been on exactly three dates in her life so far. The first two were disappointing and uneventful. She hopes the third won't suck as much. She thinks maybe things will be different now, for a couple of reasons. The first of which is that _she_ asked _him_ out, and therefore she did not just say yes simply out of surprise. The second is that she actually knows Beck—they hang out with the same group of people at her new school, Hollywood Arts. And, finally, the obvious reasons; he's talented and pretty and not an asshole as far as she knows. He seemed worth taking the plunge to actually do the asking.

He looks up at her and grins. She'd dyed her hair black the summer before high school, adding in blue highlights. And she's noticed she's being drawn to different clothing—instead of popular fashion she's delving into darker colors and unusual jewelry. She doesn't know what's caused the change, and she doesn't bother to try to figure it out. She does not like to be psychoanalyzed, even by her own self. She knows she looks a little outlandish, but it's bothering her less and less.

And Beck doesn't seem to mind it, but she'll decide if his opinion matters after tonight.

"Ready to go?" He asks, eagerly getting to his combat boot clad feet.

"Yeah." She replies. "It's only a five minute walk, right?"

"Yeah, about."

They head toward the door, and her father makes a point of making eye contact with him again. Many months later, after they've done everything her dad warned him against, Beck'll tell her what exactly was said, and she'll laugh for a full five minutes when he blushes.

"Be back by eleven." Her dad warns as they walk out the door.

"Yes sir."

Jade smirks once they get to the sidewalk, and start walking toward the neighborhood movie theater.

"You look nice." Beck tells her.

"Shut up, I know it." She replies.

He puts up his hands in surrender, but is still smiling.

The sun has set, but her neighborhood is still glowing with activity. It's not the kind of place that you need to worry about after dark; the lawns all well kept, the houses good sized, the cars nice enough. A guy walking a dog waves to her. She does not introduce her companion.

It's 8:45 when they get to the movie theater, for a nine o'clock showing. Neither can shake the adolescent awkwardness as they wait for tickets and then food. Finally, he thinks of something to talk about. And, as it turns out, he's made the right choice.

They get into a conversation about acting, and he finds out she wants to do everything; write, direct, produce, act, sing, the whole nine yards. And he doesn't snort or tell her _good luck with that_, because he's seen what she can do, and that if there's one person that deserves to be at Hollywood Arts, it's her.

They head into the theater, talking until someone behind them tells them to shut up.

The movie's a comedy of some sort, but he spends most of it debating whether he should pull the classic douche bag move and try to subtly put his arm around her shoulders. The wise part of him says that he'll get his nose broken if he tries it, and so he holds off, until she finds his hand on the elbow rest and intertwines her fingers with his.

He looks at her, and she's not even blushing. She must have more experience than him, which doesn't surprise him. He's been on exactly one date, and it was a double in the eighth grade with Andre and a pair of exceptionally boring sisters. He had made some excuse and gotten home to his newly decorated RV by nine in the evening.

This is completely different.

The movie ends, and she lets go of his hand. He sighs inwardly. What someone will do in the dark is a lot different than what someone will do in public.

It's only ten thirty when they step back outside. He pulls on his jacket again, a cold night having set in.

"Want to go get ice cream?" He asks, not ready to return her to her father yet.

"It's fucking freezing." She says, raising an eyebrow at him.

"We'll eat it inside."

She shrugs. "Fine."

They head across the store complex to the Cold Stone creamery. Without hesitation, she orders a large cup of triple chocolate ice cream with every topping, forking over the cash just as she takes the first bite.

She sees him chuckling and gives him a look. "What the hell are you looking at?"

"You."

"Why?"

"Cause."

"I'm serious."

"Me too."

"Boy, just fucking tell me."

He laughs again, and they take a booth in the corner. "You're such a badass. It's cool because you're one of a kind and you actually have a personality."

She just looks at him like he's lost his mind. "You know a lot of people without personalities?"

He shrugs, and the meets her eyes. "I like you a lot."

She doesn't say anything, just finishes her ice cream in silence. He curses himself. Too soon.

The truth is, he's wanted to ask her out since his first day at Hollywood Arts. He'd just been way to intimidated to actually do it. When she asked him, it was godsend. Maybe she likes him, maybe she doesn't, but he figures that now he has a chance to sway her opinion. Assuming he doesn't screw himself over first.

They finish, and walk back down the sidewalk to her house without speaking. His thoughts are just a stream of swear words. He's blown it, and Jade doesn't seem like the forgiving type. Fuck.

They reach the walkway up to her front door, and she turns on her heel to face him. He opens his mouth to apologize for his own stupidity, to try give himself some chance of reconciliation, when she grabs the front of his shirt and presses her lips hard against his. He's puzzled for a second, then closes his eyes and reciprocates, slipping an arm carefully around her waist. He doesn't know about her, but for his first kiss this is pretty damn good.

Finally she pulls back, leaving him breathless and flustered, but he's grinning wider than ever.

"Jade." He manages to get out.

She smiles at him, and it's not a sarcastic smirk, but a genuine expression.

"See you tomorrow." She says simply, and bounds up the steps to her front door.

He stands there on the sidewalk for a moment, staring at where she had been. Then his grin returns and he starts the trek back home.


	4. Serenity

**Author's Note: Missing moments from "Ice Cream for Ke$ha." Enjoy and please review!**

"We need more ice cream!" Tori exclaims, close to tears. It's ten at night, and she has a slight caffeine shake to her hands.

"I got it." Beck grabs his jacket and keys from the couch beside him. He turns to Jade, who's watching the disheveled Tori with some kind of fascination, a small smile on her lips. "Coming?"

"Nah, if Tori has a psychotic break, there's not a chance in hell I'm gonna miss it."

Beck raises an eyebrow, but is mostly unsurprised. "Alright then." He heads toward the door. "Be back after a while."

"Be quick!" Tori cries, just before he closes the front door behind him.

He climbs into the front seat of his truck, checks his phone in reference to the nearest grocery store from Tori's house, and then turns out on to the road.

He's thinking about all of the crazy schemes his group of friends try to execute on a regular basis, and decides one of the crazier and more improbable ones to pop into one of their heads. Not only does it involve spending a ridiculous amount of money on second rate ice cream, but the odds are against them.

And yet here he is. Going to buy even more, so they can stay up all night searching for the remaining letters in Ke$ha's name. Enabling the crazy.

He parks, then makes sure he has cash in his wallet before heading inside the super market. It's still packed, even at this time of night. He navigates toward the baskets, then changes his mind and goes for a cart. Their last batch of ice cream only lasted an hour and a half.

He finds the freezer with right brand, and starts loading up the cart. He clears out the entire stock, and the cart's only half full. He might have to hit another store. He sighs, thinking of the extra effort involved. He estimates a total price in his head for the amount he's bought so far, and then walks toward one of the check out lines.

It seems to him that everyone is staring at his purchases. The older guy buying toothpaste in front of him. The woman about his mom's age picking up batteries, cheese, and a pack of gum to his right. The couple in their twenties buying beer and condoms and walking to the back of another line. The teenage girl to his left grabbing liquid eyeliner and a new hairdryer. Actually, nope, she's just looking at his face, somehow missing the cart full of ice cream completely.

"For the missus, huh?" The guy with the toothpaste gives him an understanding look, despite the sheer quantity of cartons.

Beck smiles. "Not exactly. It's a long story."

His phone buzzes. It's Tori, wondering _where the fuck is the ice cream?_ He thinks Jade might be getting her psychotic break any second, if Tori's using swear words.

'_On my way'_ he begins to type, but something makes him check Ke$ha's twitter feed. He bites back a curse as he reads it, and then directs a glance at his almost purchases. He wheels his cart out of line, and sullenly replaces the sodden ice cream. He climbs back in the truck and drives back to deliver the bad news.

m m m

"I feel disgusting."

Beck is curled on his bed in the RV, nauseated.

"Aren't teenage boys supposed to be always hungry or something?" Jade seems fine, seated on the couch with his laptop open. His eyes aren't open and he's facing the wall, but he knows she's probably working on her playlist, seeing as she has time to kill. A while back, she created two playlists in his iTunes account: one called Jade's List, and the other called Not Jade's List. Since then, she has been meticulously working through his thousands of songs, deciding which she likes and which she doesn't

"And those giant plastic bins were so that we didn't actually have to eat any ice cream, just dump it out for the letter. What part of those did you not see?" She dragged Nirvana next to Talking Heads in Jade's List, and then a Shakira song from a while back into Not Jade's List.

"I saw the bins. But I was hungry when we started, so I ate like seven pints before I started pouring them out."

"Why didn't you stop when you got full?" She looks at him sharply. "Also, why do you have Shakira on here? Do you think she's hot?"

"I'm an idiot, whatever." She seems satisfied with his phrase answering all her questions, and he's glad not to have to talk any more. Silence falls on the RV, and he nods off to the sound of an occasionally sampled song.

Later, he half wakes up and glances at the clock. Three-thirty am. He's still in his clothes, but he feels slightly less like a sugar overdose. The lights have been turned off, and that's when he feels the presence next to him. Jade is there, an arm around his waist. It's a little backwards, maybe, her holding him, but he's not complaining. She's not roused as he shifts from facing the wall to look at her.

She's changed into one of his t-shirts, scrubbed off her make-up, and put her hair up in a messy bun. Eye closed, face half buried in his neck, she almost looks at peace.

He intertwines his fingers with hers and falls back to sleep.


	5. Resurrection

**Author's Note: Follow on to chapter two, in which Beck is home from the hospital and trying to mend his relationship with Jade. **

He's used to girls staring at him—when he goes shopping with Jade, when he's driving home, when he's walking into school, anywhere, really—but when he comes in to Hollywood Arts on Monday morning, it's different.

For a while, he was stared at because girls knew him as the taken guy everyone wanted. And then it was because he was the guy who was newly single and they no longer feared being stabbed by a pair of scissors for talking to him. But now he knows they're staring at the bandage on his forehead, his wrapped wrist that conceals an ugly row of stitches tracing up his forearm, the way he clutches his healing rib as he climbs the stairs. Now, the last thing they notice is his ever perfect hair.

He goes to his locker, tries to ignore the burning stares of what feels like the entire school on his back. He's already heard the rumors from his friends. That he purposely got in an accident when Jade was in the car to get back at her for breaking up with him. That he was driving her off to kill her in the woods and her struggling to get away caused the accident. Some even said he had been killed, even though there's a massive amount of evidence to prove otherwise. His first reaction was wondering at who bothered to come up with this stuff. Who hates him so much to think these things up? He had reasoned with himself, though. Some people just like drama, and having a story to tell. And the whole situation does sound bad, when you don't know anything about what actually happened. Even his friends were worried initially about his motives for getting Jade in the car, until he explained. They know him—he's not a violent guy. And eventually the rest of the school will remember that, too, that Beck's just a cool, kind of quiet guy who usually doesn't mean any harm and would never hurt Jade, even in post relationship status. Until then, he can ignore the whispers.

But what hurts him worse is the little bits of truth in the accident. That he _did_ put Jade in that car. That he _did_ put her life in danger, inadvertent though it may be. The accident itself may not have been his entire fault, but if she had died, he'd still be the reason for it. He can't help thinking that maybe if he's just reacted a little quicker, kept his eyes on the road a little longer, than it wouldn't have been a wreck, just a close call, and no one would be worried or hurt or guilty. But then he remembers the reason he took his eyes away from the road for that critical fraction of a second. She'd been smiling, her face lighting up as she tried not to laugh. It had been so long since he'd made her smile; it was intoxicating. He couldn't help but take it in.

He's early. Only a few students are milling around in the hallway. Yesterday, he thought he'd be moving slower, and therefore timed a longer walk inside. Maybe it's just that he's fresh from bed and healing quickly that gets him to an almost normal pace, or maybe it's the half nervous adrenaline kicking in the moment he steps on campus. And it's not the rumors he's worried about.

It's seeing her again.

Tori and Andre wander up to his locker.

"Welcome back!" Tori cries excitedly, giving him a huge hug.

Andre does the same. "Good to have you back."

He smiles half heartedly at them. It's not their fault he barely has the energy to keep his mind straight, after everything he's dealt with in the last few days.

Sikowitz makes an appearance. His usual—let's say 'interesting'-style of dress still ever present, spouting something between gibberish and English and handing him packets of homework he's missed.

"Beck!" The teacher calls. "It's good to see that head of hair again!"

Cat and Robbie show up, too, and start talking about some event from yesterday with Tori and Andre, something that Beck has no knowledge of. School has gone on without him; life has gone on without him. Thank God.

All the while, his eyes are searching as more and more students arrive, searching for that spot of darkness in the eccentric clothes of HA students. But soon the bell rings, and he brings up the rear in his group of friends as they head toward first period.

When he meets them again at lunch, he still hasn't seen her.

"Have you guys seen Jade?" He asks, taking a seat with his lunch. The Asphalt Cafe harbors a whole new cacophony of people to stare at him, some accusingly, some sympathetic.

"Uh, she was here yesterday. Haven't seen her today."

He doesn't reply, just starts eating and inwardly mopes. She must have known he'd be back today. That'd he want to talk to her. And so she bugged out.

He finishes lunch with fifteen minutes to spare, his friends looking at him with concern as he walks away and heads into the bathroom in the main hallway. He uses one of the mirrors to change the slightly seeping bandage on his forehead. It's pretty nasty looking. Jade would love it.

He's just turning the corner outside the bathroom door when he smacks straight into someone.

He almost screams, and though he's been looking for her all day, the message his brain sends to his legs is to turn around and run the hell away.

"Beck!" She calls as he sprints down the corridor, then rounds into the next one. His rib begins to hurt, his forehead to throb.

He stops for half a second out of view, hears the absence of her boots clicking after him. He slumps against the nearest wall, and slowly slides to the floor. The rest of the hallway is empty, thankfully.

He thought he could talk to her like a normal person. Tell her how sorry he was, how much he still loved her. But it seems like her assurances that night in the hospital no longer mean anything, like they were just his sleepy and concussed mind blurting out what he wanted to hear. Or for once she wasn't saying what she truly meant.

Now, he's not sure he can handle the alternative, where she walks away, where she doesn't forgive. He can't even blame her if that's her decision, but that doesn't mean he wants to hear it. Maybe if he just keeps clear of her, everything will be fine. They'll both move on. Or at least, she will. And he'll never have to hear from the only person that matters exactly how much he fucked up.

He puts his head down, closes his eyes, and tries to forget.

m m m

"I don't think Beck's okay." Cat observes, after he's left the table.

Andre bites back a sarcastic retort, reminding himself who's talking.

"Well, he has just broken up with his girlfriend of three years and then got in a car accident that beat the shit out of him." Andre says. So much for self control. "So, no, I don't think he's okay."

Cat looks hurt at his comments, but brushes it off just as quickly. "We should do something nice for him."

"Like what?" Trina has, unfortunately, joined the table.

"Since when do you care about doing something nice for anyone else?" Tori asks her.

Trina looks at her like her motives are obvious. "Hello, it's _Beck_. And he's _single._"

"Sort of." Tori says.

"What do you mean 'sort of'?" asks Trina.

"Do you honestly think Jade won't come after you if you try to get in any kind of serious relationship with her ex-boyfriend?"

Trina shuts her mouth after that, looking considerably taken aback.

"Who am I coming after?"

Tori nearly jumps out of her skin when she hears the voice from behind her. "Jade! Where were you?"

"At home. As if it's any business of yours."

"Why are you so late?"

Jade gives her a scathing look. Tori looks back to her food.

Andre is unfazed. "Beck is back today. He's looking for you."

"Figured."

"You could have come visited him at the hospital."

She directs her glare at Andre, who matches it. "I did."

Andre softens. Though it's not a lie, Jade thinks it would do him some good not to believe her immediately. Some people are just so trusting. She is not some people, even for Beck, back when it mattered. He always had to coax her into believing him, into finally letting him catch her.

And she does have a fair amount of respect for Andre. He's Beck best friend, second to her, when they were Beck & Jade. And he's still looking out for Beck. Trying to not let him hurt worse than he probably already is. Of course, she says none of this, just walks away in the direction of the building.

When she slams into someone coming around the corner by the men's bathroom, her first thoughts are clouded by anger. When she recognizes the face a split second later, she looks at the bandage on his head, his terrified expression, and calls to him. But he's already running for it.

Andre's right; the boy's hurting. She knew he would be.

Beck has something she doesn't have. Well, actually, he has a lot of things she doesn't. But the only relevant thing at the moment is some convoluted sense of honor, of nobility, of chivalry as a man. If the roles had been reversed, she would feel guilty for a while, and then things would go back to normal because Beck would forgive her. But she knows from years of being together that he doesn't let himself off the hook easily. She doesn't have this problem very often, and then only for a few.

She waits a long time before she remembers that this is Beck that is in pain, and she is brought to him by the same force that compelled her to the hospital that night. She can't pretend anymore.

She had spent the morning in Beck's RV. He had left it unlocked, for whatever reason, and all she'd had to do was wait until he and his parents left for the day. She had looked around the messy space, and sighed at how long it had been she'd spent time in there. At one point, she'd spent five nights a week in his presence. That was two months ago.

She had taken it in for a moment, enjoyed the familiar atmosphere. She looked at a pair of jeans draped over a chair. A collection of hair products visible in the bathroom. Most recently, a bottle of rubbing alcohol and a package of gauze bandages. She had sat down on his unmade bed, seen the identical ring necklace on the bedside table.

She stayed there for all of ten minutes, until she made up her mind.

For the next three hours, she'd driven around Los Angeles, thinking of ways to get him back.

She keeps an even pace as she retraces his steps from minutes before. He didn't make it very far.

He doesn't look up when she sits down next to him on the tiled floor.

"I still love you." She says. He doesn't move.

"I never stopped." She continues. He doesn't look up.

"And if there's one thing I learned about being in a relationship for three years is that you have to forgive the one you love, especially when it's not his fault.

"So I'm forgiving you. Take it or leave it."

He looks up, finally, surprised that she's saying so much. She directs her stony gaze at him, unblinking.

"I wanna be with you." He finally says, his voice barely audible.

"Good." He holds out a hand, and she intertwines her fingers with his, leaning into him.

Lunch ends. People start to filter back to their lockers, and eventually Jade and Beck are effected by the astonished stares directed their way, and get up off the floor.


	6. Wild

**Author's Note: This is a direct follow on to the previous chapter. As usual, enjoy, and please review!**

He can't help but feel geriatric as he carefully lowers himself from the driver's seat to the ground, his side aching.

His truck is basically dead. Correction, so close to dead that there's no chance he'll have the cash to get it fixed. For now, his parents are letting him borrow one of their cars to get around, but he'll have to find something new, and soon. Which means spending money. He sighs.

He grabs his bag and looks toward the RV, stopping in his tracks when he sees the door open. He listens for a moment, but can't hear anything inside. He reaches for the baseball bat next to the door as he steps across the threshold. He's not sure what a wiry, injured teenage boy will be against a malicious intruder, but the bat's worth a shot. Maybe.

He quickly does a three sixty of the room, seeing nothing obviously disturbed. When he brings his eyes back around to the head of the RV, where the bathroom is, he leaps backwards, letting out a surprised scream and involuntarily raising the bat.

Jade barely reacts, just continues to dry the end of a black lock of hair.

"What the hell are you doing here?" He cries, his heart throbbing painfully against his healing rib.

She scowls. "Why? Were you expecting some other girl to step out of your shower?"

"What? No!" She's wrapped in white towel, looking at him accusingly. "No, you just surprised me. I didn't see your car."

"I ran here."

"What do you mean you ran here?"

"You know, exercise? Some people who aren't preternaturally skinny are supposed to do it." She says. "It's only four miles."

He looks down at himself. "I'm not preternaturally skinny."

"Whatever. Your shampoo smells good, by the way."

He sits down heavily on the couch, his heart rate and breathing returning to normal. He lifts up his shirt to look at the bandage, covering the spot where his rib had punctured the skin. It's healing, but a day of walking around at school still takes it's toll. He starts to get to his feet to change the gauze, when Jade stops him.

"Sit down. I got it."

She grabs the materials from the bathroom, rips off the old bandage and replaces it easily, her face impassive yet focused.

He looks over at her as she washes her hands, and he pulls his shirt back down again.

"Thanks."

She nods. She has a much higher tolerance for blood than she does. He doesn't even like hospitals, though recently he's spent far too much time in them.

She comes over to sit next to him on the orange couch, still dressed only in a towel, her wet hair pressing against his shoulder. She reaches for the TV remote, looks through his DVR for something worth watching. She settles on a rerun of House, M.D., a medical show that often shows gruesome ailments.

"Ah ha!" Seconds later the RV door is thrown open, Beck's dad standing wild eyed in the doorway.

Jade and Beck simultaneously jump, heads turning the ninety degrees to face the other man.

"What the hell, dad?!"

"I saw...I thought..." His brow furrowed. "Nevermind. Next time."

He closes the door behind him, and Jade turns to Beck with a look somewhere between outrage and bewilderment.

"What the fuck just happened?"

"My mom told him she found condoms in my jeans pocket when she was washing them, and now he's obsessed with finding the right time to give me 'the talk'."

"The talk? At seventeen? After you've had a long time girlfriend?"

"I dunno. He's just freaked out. It'll pass." He frowns. "We should be careful, though, because if he bursts in again..."

She's already climbing on top of him, her lips brushing his own.

"I walk on the wild side." She says. "You know, laugh in the face of danger."

"Did you just quote The Lion King?"

She turns off the TV with one hand, and pushes him onto his back with the other, bringing their lips together once more. He grins against her lips and pulls her closer.


	7. Panic

**Author's Note: For "Locked Up." I have kind of mixed feelings about this episode, because though it has it's funny parts, I can definitely see how it can offend people from countries with dictators or civil wars. These are serious issues, and the episode kind of disregarded them. And also the dismissal of other country's customs (the students animosity toward Yerbanian hand sniffing) could be construed as less then comical. Eh, I dunno, I'm a contemporary American. My knowledge of civil war is limited. But I do know this episode has good Bade moments. So, as always, enjoy and please review!**

He's supposed to be the one that's always calm, always going with the flow, never losing his shit completely. And that's what he's doing right now, on the outside. Anchoring himself and everyone around him with quiet, alert eyes. A look of soft observation, no surprise, fear, or panic. Impassive, in control, all synonymous with Beck. He's on edge, though it doesn't show. Things have proven to be unpredictable, and his insides are churning nervously.

He finds himself a cleanish chair on one side of the hotel lobby, and sits cross-legged, silently. He sits because he wants to take it in, absorb the details of this environment before he makes decisions, judgements. Everyone's tired and jet-lagged and pissed off. They need someone whose going to keep a level head, keep everyone within the boundaries of sanity. His usual role, even in a foreign country.

Jade isn't as outwardly zen as he is. She's pacing, hands on her hips, upper lip curled in vague disgust. No doubt thinking of Cancun, like him. But unlike him, she's not using it as a nerve calming escape, but but as an entity to fuel her rage. Tori's in for an earful the second Jade boils over, he's sure.

He's closed his eyes for just a moment when he feels the fingers on his scalp. At first he assumes it's Jade, but when he looks up, two strange women are stroking his black hair.

He raises an eyebrow, perplexed. "Um..."

Jade takes notice, of course, and the resulting dialogue involves some yelling, then hissing, until the two strangers scurry off.

He can count on one hand how many countries he's been to outside the U.S.. Canada, a couple times a year for holidays. Two trips to India to visit more distant family, and a few airport connections through European cities. Never anywhere involved in a current civil war.

He reaches his arms out to Jade, whose gone back to pacing. She stands still for a moment, glaring at him. He widens his eyes at her, and she softens. He smiles triumphantly when she settles into the chair with him. He wraps his arms around her and thinks, that at least in this moment, things would be the exact same if they were in Cancun.

m m m

"That's it, you're sleeping in the bathtub."

"What? Come on, guys."

"I'm serious! Quit touching my hair."

Beck stays quiet, but he's thinking the same thing Andre is. He likes Robbie well enough, but after seventh hair stroke he's not too keen on sharing a bed with the guy. The only person he wants snuggling up to him in the night is Jade, and Sikowitz is making the girls and boys stay in separate rooms.

There's another boom outside, and the sky lights up. They all pause in what they're doing to listen to the shouts of soldiers and pounding of gunshots. The war is close, too close. He's never seen anything like it, and it unnerves him. This country is unstable, being torn apart by it's own people. He can feel for them, thinking that America was once like this, during it's own wars.

He finishes putting on his pajamas, and heads to the bathroom to brush his teeth. There's a handwritten sign in broken english over the sink that tells him not to drink the tap water. Brilliant. He finds a bottle of water from his backpack and the three of them share it. From outside, another boom causes the floor and all the furniture to vibrate. He thinks he hears surprised screams from the adjacent girls' room.

Robbie resignedly sinks into the bathtub. Beck throws him a blanket, then climbs into the bed. He takes the side closest to the window, and Andre curls up on across from him. It's like a thunderstorm, with the light, and then the sound a second later. He watches it with some kind of sick fascination, petrified by the sight. It's like social studies, but right in front of him.

Despite the crashing from outside, he drifts off into a restless sleep. This is certainly not what he expected. He dreams of Cancun.

Screaming from the other room jars him from sleep. There is the sound of breaking glass, and shouting in a different language. Andre is already out of bed, wild-eyed, a lump on his neck the size of a baseball. Robbie's no longer in the bathroom.

Beck scoops his hair out of his eyes and shoves his feet in a pair of shoes. His watch tells him he's had a few hours sleep, but the combination of stress and jet lag has him feeling completed devitalized. He stumbles, half blind, across the hallway to find the girls escaping their room in a panic, following a group of soldiers chasing a prisoner down the hallway.

He grabs Cat, her big eyes frantic. "Where's Jade?!"

Cat looks more frightened by the look in his eyes. Beck, showing emotion? Didn't make sense.

"She's still asleep!" Cat cries, looking close to tears.

Tori is leading a charge downstairs to yell at the manager, when Beck slips into the now empty the girls' room. The window's blown out, and it's true—Jade's still sleeping away.

"Jade." He knows he's playing with fire trying to wake her up, but he can't leave her here. He shakes her shoulder and she groans. "Jade, you gotta get up."

"Hmpf."

"Come on."

"Five minutes."

He sighs. "Meet us downstairs."

Back in the hallway, Andre doesn't look right. He wanders in demented circles, muttering strings of incoherent sounds. He's been a little weird ever since the moth bite, but this is something else. His neck wound has become disgusting bulbous.

"Andre?" Beck asks tentatively. "Everything alright?"

Another jumble of gibberish, and Andre sways as he tries to stand still.

"Alright, let's head down to the front desk." Beck says, as gently as possible. He wraps an arm around Andre and begins to lead him in the direction of the stairs.

Down in the lobby, not much progress has been made. Tori's demanding to go home, and Sikowitz is trying to back them up while the owner tells them they've made a commitment to sing for seven nights. Jade appears, and immediately begins to poke at Andre's neck while he whimpers.

When the soldiers take up residence guarding the exits, he knows they're fucked. He exchanges a look with Jade, who looks less than enthused by the developments of the last few minutes.

Looks like they'll be in Yerba for a while.

m m m

Tori's been gone for three days when they finally get an audience with the Yerbanian chancellor.

There's a few moments where he thinks things might actually work out, that they'll be able to take Tori and go home. And then Robbie electrocutes an octopus and everything gets shot straight to hell again.

He meets eyes with Jade just before the soldiers begin to herd them roughly towards the door. They grab her first.

"Don't touch her!" he cries, but no one hears him, and he's overpowered easily by their captors.

They drag the girls off in a separate direction once they're out the doors of the Chancellor's office. He cranes his neck over his shoulder until she's out of view. He deflates with a sigh, as they throw him in a dark truck next to Andre.

m m m

Once again, he's a mask of carefully hidden fear.

It's overwhelming, trying to worry about all these things at once. He's worrying about the girls on the other side of the chain link fence. He's worrying cause Andre needs him to stay calm and he's barely managing. He's worrying about himself because he's a skinny guy with great hair and prison is not a good place for him. Granted his whole knowledge of jail is from movies, but he has a right to not let down his guard.

Frankly, he's terrified. About as terrified as Andre, except more hesitant to show it. Terrified he'll never get home again. Terrified he'll die in this prison, in this war. Terrified of what can happen to Jade. Terrified he'll get rocks thrown at him again.

Lately, he's been in a near constant state of stress.

The guards don't like inmates of different genders interacting where the two sides of the prison meet. Sometimes, in the early morning, when the soldiers are still half asleep, they can sneak to the fence. Intertwine their fingers for half a second and try to touch their lips through the rhombus shaped gaps in the fence. The other prisoners eye them peculiarly, until the guards yell at them.

For the rest of the day he and Andre try to find some small patch of shade to sit down and lounge. At some point it occurs to him that this is by far the craziest thing that has ever happened to him, to all them. This is some crazy bullshit. Coming to a country and somehow missing that they are at war. And then getting thrown in jail in said country. He never thought he could be this homesick.

When Tori comes up with the "I Want You Back" plan, he's immediately on board. They don't have much to lose, at this point. And it seems like an appropriately insane ending to an insane trip all around.

And it's good, because he can throw himself into rehearsals, teaching the other inmates, and for a while not worrying about whether it'll actually work or not. Or if they'll end up dead.

When the night of the performance comes, he's not worried about the actual singing and dancing.

The two sides of the prison are brought together, and he finds Jade among the orange clad women. He grabs her hand first, and the pulls her into a kiss. One part affection starved, two parts possibility of death in the next ten minutes. His face is expressionless, of course. Jade just nods afterwards, as if she can read his mind.

This feels so weird, all of this desperation, this dramatic ending. What a completely insane way to die. But he's almost use to insane, now. His mind somehow finds it way back to Forrest Gump, and then the _Shit Happens_ bumper sticker.

The song starts. He falls into the rhythm easily, each step of choreography coming to him before he even thinks about it. His never danced this well, this effortlessly. He always feels a little self conscious and awkward when dancing, which is why he'll usually chose acting as his main skill. He guesses near total panic is something he should think about when and if he ever dances again at home.

They finish the second verse, and plunge into the last chorus. His heart speeds up faster, if that's even possible. They stream artfully towards the exit, trying to continue the dance naturally. He makes sure Jade is in front of him, goes through the curtain first. They make it outside, and Sikowitz's truck is in view. He waits for the sound of bullets firing, penetrating to red curtain, hitting the ground, his limbs, his head. But they never come.

They scurry into the back of the truck frantically, trying to keep their voices low. He lowers himself down next to Jade, whose eyes are wide and alert, mouth slightly parted in scared breathlessness. He does a quick check—his own face is still an impassive mask. He scans the occupants of the truck bed; everyone's made it. And there's an extra person, a large woman clad in orange, like them. He recognizes her as one of the dominant but unofficial leaders of the prison, and one of the organizers for the performance.

He slides an arm around Jade, rests his hands on her hip. She places her hand over his as the truck lurches forward, speeding out of the compound and onto darkened, silent roads.


	8. Hollow

**Author's Note: This is Beck's view of the key parts of TWC. Depressing. Please review! Love you guys!**

"_I'm not happy with our relationship!"_

This is so wrong—everything about it. He's Beck, and he's yelling, yelling at Jade, in public. This is what has become of them. He has lost his calm facade. He can't remember the last time he's been so angry, that he's let the words flow in the presence of others. They have serious arguments, the ones more than squabbles, at home. That's the unspoken agreement, the agreement he's just broken.

The world isn't right. He looks at his hands, and they offer him no solace.

m m m

The pavement is damp. The parking lot is empty, except for the two of them. Streetlights make the wet pavement shine, and he can feel the humidity in the air. It must have rained during the game show.

She walks several paces ahead of him, and he follows her at a slower pace, looking at his feet. He senses more than sees her flip her black hair over one shoulder, senses the angry set of her jaw. The silence between them is deafening—and to think, they still have to ride home together.

It's night time, so he lets her drive without protest. He takes the passenger seat, leans his head against the glass and watches Los Angeles blur as they speed past it into the suburbs.

He runs a hand through his hair, feels his throat tighten in anger and frustration. He's not sure what those feelings are directed at. _When did it all fall apart? _He asks himself. When did the banter become more than banter? When did every conversation turn into a screaming match?

He lets out a shaky breath.

He's been with Jade so long, he can't imagine himself as a separate person. They knew each other better than anyone. They fought, because that's who they were, but they could let go of it. They could laugh afterward, be sweet to each other. They were attached at the hip. And then they just...stopped. He can't understand how, why.

_When did they stop being Beck & Jade?_

They pull into his driveway, behind the stagnant RV. She turns off the engine, and there is an even more suffocating silence then before. The neighborhood has gone to bed. Neither of them looks at the other.

She reaches over and unlocks the passenger door for him, and he can take a hint.

Finally, he turns to look at her. "Jade, I-"

He doesn't know what he was planning to say. I love you? I'm sorry? _I don't know if I can do this anymore?_

"I'll see you tomorrow." She says simply, emotionless.

His eyes widen, his mouth opening. Once again, the worlds don't flow.

"Okay," he manages, and somberly opens the door and steps out into the humid night.

m m m

He doesn't sleep.

He wasn't really expecting to, either.

But he'd brushed his teeth and gotten into his pajamas anyway. He'd made sure the majority of his homework had been done and then he'd climbed into bed. The only light is from the digital alarm clock on the bedside table as he stares up at the ceiling, trying not to think.

Somewhere around one in the morning, his phone buzzes. It's a text from Andre.

_Hey man._

Hey.

_Everything ok?_

Not really but thanks for asking.

_It'll be alright. Couples always fight._

Not like this.

There's a long pause. _It'll be alright._

He knows Andre's just trying to help, but he doesn't respond. There's nothing to say.

He has to do something, he knows. He can't just leave it like this. Fighting every other second, and then awkward silence every second they're not. They have to talk about it. Have an actual conversation, a private one. Jade won't like that. He'll have to grab her when she least expects it, and try not to let her inflict fatal injuries in her surprise. And it'll have to be soon, because he don't know how long he can live like this, sleeping alone, raising his voice. He doesn't know how long they can limp along before it's too late to come back to how things were.

He turns over to face the wall, dreading the day ahead of him.

m m m

_When did it all fall apart?_

The question comes back to him as Trina rests her head against his bicep. He doesn't have the energy to shake her off, despite the bruise her clumsy tackle has bestowed upon his chin.

He tries to ignore the quick glances, bad attempts at subtlety, that his friends direct at him as Cat deals out cards. He doesn't want their sympathy right now. He won't pretend like he's not bitter, angry, morose, all mixed into one. He knows it's a cliché but his chest literally has a hollow feeling, and aching pain that comes in waves whenever his mind repeats the last few moments, which is often.

And no matter how many times he sees it play out, sees her walk away in his mind's eye, he still can't believe it. There's some part of him that still believes that this is just minor, that it'll be like that time he was hanging out with Alyssa Vaughn and they only managed to stay broken up for a few days.

But he can feel the magnitude in his bones, though the rest of his body has yet to completely react. This is more than jealousy. More than a petty squabble. This is...finality. And somehow he's keeping it together. It's a superhuman feat.

The game doesn't last much longer. Nobody can pretend like everything's normal with him there, but they don't want him to be alone. They can't dissuade him from going back home, though, at the end of the night. Several offer to take him out or let him sleep at their place. He appreciates it, but he just needs some time alone.

He drives home faster than he should.

His vision is already blurring by the time he burst into the RV, kicks off his shoes and falls onto the bed. He curls into a ball, feels the ring necklace against the skin of his chest.

He's Beck. He's not supposed to cry. He grits his teeth and tears come anyway.

His mother had seen him pull up. She leaves her novel and climbs from bed to bid him and Jade good night, as she does when she's still up and he's home. She grabs a light jacket and some flip flops before crossing the dew dampened yard. She does a quick tap on the door and waits for an answer. None comes.

"Beck?" She calls. "Jade?"

He tries to wipe his eyes, take deep breaths. "Come in." his voice wavers uncontrollably.

Door clicks, and opens a second later. "Beck?"

She can't see his face. She touches his arm tentatively. "What's wrong, honey?"

He just shakes his head.

"G'night." he says softly.

She knows this is not the time to push it. "Good night."

She leaves, and he wishes she had stayed, despite his dismissal.

He finally dozes off, his head aching.


	9. Facade

**Author's Note: Follow up to the last chapter. More depressing TWC. Please review, even though all of you have been amazing about doing it so far! I'm just greedy like that. :)**

He sleeps badly. Worse than he ever has.

It's takes a while before he even drifts off, but it's not for long. He wakes up, hours, minutes, maybe seconds later, soaked in sweat and trembling. He has no memory of the nightmare, just uncontrollable fear, a panic that overwhelms him. It's like he's losing himself, slipping away from his body in the darkness. He can't hold on.

The rest of the night continues like this. He sleeps through his alarm, then wakes up in another cold sweat, tears pricking his eyes again. He has thrown off his shoes and jacket some time in the night, but is still in pants and an undershirt. He stumbles to the bathroom, dares to look at the face in the mirror.

For the first time in his life, he can legitimately say he's a mess.

He's really losing his shit this time, and for Beck that's saying something. His hair is standing up at odd angles, plastered to his face with sweat, and greasy everywhere else. His face is so pale it's nearly gray. His stomach is doing flip flops and he's still shaking, his mind and body not quite at odds with eachother. The emotional shake up is taking it's toll, Jade is practically making him physically sick.

He feels so far away, like it's still just a dream. That he'll wake up and she'll be next to him. Then reality bitch slaps him again and he's out of this state of shock for at least a few seconds. He looks at his watch and finds that he could still shower and dress and make it to school, granted a few minutes late. He takes a crack at putting up a cool facade, pushing everything to the back of his brain and staring emotionlessly at his own reflection. After a few seconds, he crumbles again, and knows that for once he can't cover this up.

His mother, seeing his car still in the driveway, pauses on her front step as she turns to lock the front door. She crosses the yard as she had done the night before, and knocks on the metal door.

"Open." his voice is a rasp.

"Everything okay?" She asks. She doesn't really expect it to be, after his state last night.

She looks at him hunched over the sink, sees his clammy skin. "Are sick, sweetie?"

His mother cups his face in one hand, sees the dark circles under his eyes, his heavy breathing. He just nods and leans down to hug her. Once she puts her arms around him he seems to deflate, to lean his lanky form against her for the first time in a long while.

"You should stay home today." She can't pinpoint exactly what's going on, but Jade's absence is giving her an inkling. Usually, though, when they fight he does not get this torn up about it. Even when they don't talk to each other for a while, occasional though it may be. But something is seriously wrong, this is completely different.

He nods again, and let's go of her.

"You should also shower." She kisses him on the cheek. "I'll call you at lunch, okay?"

She leaves him then, because it's obvious he's still not ready to talk about what's going on. Her instincts are correct—even if he wanted advice his tongue wouldn't have done what it was told.

m m m

An hour later, he's showered, and changed into sweatpants and a t-shirt. He's still wearing the ring necklace, and trying desperately not to think, just to pretend like everything's still normal and he's just taking a mental health day. It's sorta kinda working, until he has to look at all the things of hers that still occupy the RV. Her make-up, several pairs of jeans and shirts, her shampoo in the shower.

He decides to spend a day inside the house, something that feels almost foreign after all the years spent living isolated. He heats taquitoes in the microwave and sifts through the shelves for a movie to watch. He decides on _Fight Club_, because he figures it'll make his life seem a whole lot better.

He settles into the couch and lets out a breath. He feels the calmest he has in days. He's pretty sure it won't last, but he tries not think of that.

In the afternoon, Andre texts him, and he can practically sense his friend's worry through the phone.

_Everything okay?_

Managing.

_Why aren't you at school?_

Taking a mental health day.

_Jade's not here either._

Figured.

_Want someone to come over?_

He thinks about it. Probably couldn't hurt, though it may not help with the whole 'don't think about it' plan.

That'd be good.

_We'll come after school. _

Okay.

He picks out another movie, something that'll make him laugh. _The Hangover_, he decides, will put up a good effort.

He's halfway through it when there's a knock on the door. They'd already gone to the RV and he'd directed them to the house instead. For most, it was the first time they'd seen the inside of it.

He opens the door to find Andre, Tori, and Cat on the front step.

"We coming bearing gifts!" Cat cries, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. But he can see the hesitation in her smile, the worried look mirrored by the other two.

He smiles the best he can, and lets them in. As they pass over the threshold, they each hug him and hand him something. Andre hands him a roll of electric green duct tape. Tori gives him three Twix bars and a Milky Way. Cat hands him a stuffed dinosaur as long as his arm.

"Um, thanks, guys." He's not sure how this stuff will help with his specific problems, more than dinosaurs, chocolate and duct tape help with everything.

They've taken up the whole couch, the three of them all sprawled on the gray fabric. They're looking at him, with his sweatpants and unstyled hair. He might as well be naked, after what they're used to. He wonders if Jade is wearing the exact same thing right now. He feels momentarily feminine—shouldn't the guy be the one that brushes everything and goes on with his life?

But that's bullshit. It's gotta be.

He wouldn't even know, though, because he hasn't ever had another girlfriend and therefore never had another break up.

Ugh.

There's a moment of awkwardness, because no one wants to bring up what's on everybody's mind. He had hoped they wouldn't bring up the reason why they're here, that they could just be there for him. He can't talk about it. Not unless he wants them to see him freak out, and that cannot happen. They'll never look at him the same way again. He's Beck, calm, composed, and reserved. He's been that Beck so long he doesn't see another option.

"So, what're we watching?" Andre asks.

He tells them, and slides Cat over on the couch so he can have a seat. Cat puts her legs in his lap and her head in Tori's lap. Tori leans against Andre, who puts an arm around her, and Beck reaches out to start the movie again. The couch is small, but they manage to entangle themselves enough that they all fit.

His mother comes home to four teenagers on her couch watching R rated movies. She sees the absence of a certain intense individual, usually holding on to her son, and knows what has happened.


	10. Unease

**Author's Note: You have reached the light at the end of the tunnel, people! No more depressing TWC! Now back to the previously scheduled happy fluffiness. This is for "Beck Falls For Tori." Also, the stuffed dinosaur from the last chapter will be mentioned, even though TWC and it's aftermath haven't happened yet. Dinosaurs are awesome and I couldn't resist. Enjoy and thank you for all the amazing reviews so far! :)**

The door's not locked, but she kicks it open anyways.

It's three am, and the RV is darkened except for the glow of a digital alarm clock. It's in the early hours of a Sunday, and, like most people, she never can get the hang of Sundays. Or any day, for that matter. She has reasons to hate all of them.

Her boyfriend's limbs are spilling over an orange armchair, still in most of his clothes, mouth hanging open in sleep. It's not the most attractive pose, but at this point in their relationship she's seen it all. He's got Phil the Brontosaurus clutched to his chest, an open laptop on the table in front of him that's screen has long since darkened.

He doesn't even twitch when the door slams open.

"Beck!"

He lets out somewhere between a screech and a yelp, his whole body moving at once. Phil goes flying across the room as he leaps haphazardly to his feet.

He sees her standing there, silhouetted by moonlight, and only relaxes slightly.

"Jade? Wha-what the hell...it's three in the morning?!"

"I know."

"Are you okay? Did something happen?"

"Nothing's happened. Yet."

"Jade, please." He collapses back in the armchair, pushing the hair from his eyes and pulling the cord of a light. "For fuck's sake, tell me what's going on."

She glares at him, then sits down heavily on his bed. She picks Phil up from the carpeted floor and tosses him back to his owner, who tucks the stuffed animal under one arm.

"You're dressing in drag and doing the stunt for Tori?" She says, her voice clipped, practically snarl. Her eyes look glassy, but the light is too dim for him to be sure.

He lets out a tired breath, rubs his forehead momentarily. "Do we have to talk about this right now? How'd you even find out?"

"Cat texted me. I was gonna wait til morning but I changed my mind once I thought about it. So, yes, we have to talk about this now."

He sighs again, and wonders what crazy, convoluted part of his mind thought that keeping her in the dark had any benefits. He tries to bring up the previous reasoning—this conversation would never happen, maybe? Nope, it just would have happened earlier, and she'd get over being pissed off about helping Tori, instead of having to also be mad about him not telling her. Christ, he's a moron. Now he's gonna get yelled at for the rest of the night.

"I'm sorry," he says, as if that will have any bearing with her. "I should have told you, I just knew it would upset you, and Tori really was freaking out..."

"This is fucking ridiculous, Beck. Tori needs to get her shit together and just do the stunt. You really think you dressing in drag is going to convince anyone?"

"You just don't like the idea of me doing something nice for someone."

"No, I don't like the idea of you doing something nice for the Anti-Christ."

"Jade, really? Tori's the Anti-Christ in your mind?" He looks at her for a moment, sees the firm set of her lips, the lack of blazing anger in her eyes. "Wait a minute...you're not pissed off."

"What? Yes, I am," and then, as an afterthought, "Dipshit."

"No, Jade, I think we can all tell when you're angry. And right now, you're not."

She turns her eyes away from him, grits her teeth, and can't seem to think of a retort.

"Oh my god." He's grinning now, eyes sparking with amusement. "You're not made. You're worried."

"No I'm not!"

"Yes you are!" He grabs his phone and quickly snaps a picture of her unusual expression, savoring the moment.

She glares at him sharply. "What are you gonna do with that?"

"Oh, nothing. Just put it on The Slap. And Facebook. And Twitter. And Google Plus. And MySpace. And Tumblr. And every single other kind of social networking site I can think of."

"Why the fuck would I be worried about you?"

"Cause I'm jumping off a forty foot balcony on Monday for your arch enemy." He smirks. "I could die."

Her eyes narrow further at him, if that's even possible. "You're not gonna die."

"Who are you trying to reassure, Jade?" he teases, still cackling.

"It is a rather small air bag to fall on..."

He laughs harder. "And she admits it!"

"Shut the fuck up."

"You really do love the word 'fuck', don't you?"

After this unexpected turn of events, he's almost happy to be awake at three in the morning.

Without any kind of warning, she lunges for his phone, the picture still up on the screen. He dodges at the last minute, snags her around the waist and tackles her on the bed. She struggles for a moment, but eventually gives up when he starts tickling her. Soon she's laughing uncontrollably, squirming against him. She has tears in her eyes by the time he finally stops, and her breath still coming in short gasps punctuated by giggles.

He falls to one side of her, keeps his arm around her mid section and his nose in her hair. He helps her out of her shoes and coat so she properly curls against him. He presses his face against her cheek, meets her eyes for half a second before she looks away. A worried Jade...so uncharacteristic he wants to laugh again. She gives off such an air of fearlessness that sometimes he forgets her insecurities, her anxieties just like everyone else.

"I'm gonna be fine."

She nods, but doesn't meet his eyes. She sighs, and he likes to think it might be in some kind of relief.


	11. Befuddle

**Author's Note: This is for "Stage Fighting." I just watched some Bade Slap videos...I might have to write something for those, they are adorable. :) Anyways, enjoy and please review!**

He wants to smile at her, catch her eye, _something_ that's going to remind her that if she hits Tori, he won't back her up. But she avoids his eyes as she follows the other girl to the stage. He feels like that's a bad sign. Tori's skittishness proves she seconds that notion.

After a few false starts, they begin the fight, and though it's not obvious to anyone around him, Beck's on the edge of his seat. This is some serious fucking suspense, but he doesn't have to bite his lip long before something happens.

"Butternut!" Calls an anguished Jade.

It had all happened so fast—he'd heard the sickening crack and thud as the cane connected with flesh and hadn't even registered what happened, as he automatically cringed. He thought of the one time he'd ever been punched; that time in the seventh grade. God, he had been a moron back then. Always letting his emotions get the best of him. Not the peaceful, impassive, Beck 2.0. Calm in the face of danger and such.

He's on his feet in a second, still a little baffled at what has just gone on.

Tori seems as baffled as he is, looking at Jade with a stunned expression stuck on her face.

Jade is still hunched over, and when she turns around bright red blood is flowing from her eye. He's at her side by then, slipping a steadying arm around her as Sikowitz and Russ join him.

"Are you okay?" It's a dumb question, he knows, but she lifts her chin for him anyway. He cups her jaw and and tries to see the exact wound, but can't find one amidst the blood and her usual eye make-up.

Tori has barely said a word, her brow furrowed in indignation.

He grabs Jade's bag as they head away from the theater. Jade turns to Tori before she leaves though, and comments viciously, "And I thought we were just starting to be friends."

"I didn't touch you!" Tori cries.

Beck just looks at her, wondering how she can say that with the blood running from Jade's eye. He accompanies Jade to the main office where Lane sits her down and gives her an ice pack. HA doesn't have a full time nurse, so Beck calls her mom with one hand and explains the situation, while with the other hand he helps her guide the cold pack.

Her mother can't get off work, so he volunteers to drive her home and make sure she rests up. Lane seems slightly apprehensive at letting another student drive her home, but after a moment he relents.

"Feeling any better?" He asks, once they're on the road.

"A little," she replies, pouting slightly. At the red light he leans across and kisses her temple.

"Told you Tori was crazy."

He laughs. "It was an accident. You know that."

"And yet she doesn't admit it."

"She's probably just stunned." he looks at her. "_Try_ not to hold a grudge."

"No promises." he glares at him with her good eye. "Bloody eye, Beck, bloody eye."

He doesn't take her home, but instead to the RV, which she spends more time in anyway. Inside he sits her down and dabs at as much of the blood as possible. She excuses herself to the bathroom for a moment, and he looks around for the first aid kit he keeps under the bed.

When she comes out, her eye has started bleeding again, so he gives up and puts a band-aid over it.

"You can still see, right?"

She nods.

"That's probably a good sign."

She slips off her shoes and lies tiredly down on his bed, looking beaten. He lays down next to her, thinking that maybe Tori is a little crazy.

m m m

By the evening, her eye has blackened to an almost purplish color, and he can't touch it without her wincing. He tries to get her to perk up, enjoy the day off even though the reason for which is not very perky. He puts off calling someone for homework and devotes himself to her.

"Shit," she mutters, bending over to rifle through her bag. "It hurts to bend over."

"It's cause the blood rushes to your head."

Her phone rings in her back pocket; she picks it up and mouths to him _Cat_ before she starts talking.

"Hey...yeah, I'm alright, besides the eye, that is...not surprised she won't admit. Sounds just like her...Yes, Cat, I'm going to blame her...what page was that?...OKay." She scribbles down homework in a spiral notebook and says good bye to Cat.

She lets out a heavy breath and plops back down on the bed, next to him.

"I know what'll cheer you up." He grins cheekily at her.

"Doubt it."

He reaches over and wraps his arms around her, flipping her over his body on to the bed. She struggles at first, but laughs as he begins to plant kisses up her neck and helps her to shed her clothes.

m m m

In the morning, he awakes to his alarm at seven in the morning.

Sleep depravity and the combination warmth of Jade and the blankets has his body resisting the dawn of a new day. Jade sits up first next to him, and she's silhouetted against the morning light. He sees one hand come up to touch her eye, and then she quickly climbs from the bed, her mess of hair hiding her face. She does a few quick strides to the bathroom in her underwear and a t-shirt.

He sits up on his elbows, exposing bare chest. "Babe, everything alright?"

From behind the closed door, he hears her answer. "It's fine, it's just...we're gonna be late."

She's right, though two years say she usually doesn't give a shit about punctuality.

He wills himself to leave the warmth of the bed, and searches the room for clothes. The door opens a few minutes later, her eye just as black as last night, maybe even darker.

At lunch, they find a table to themselves. She's been like a storm cloud all day, making sure every one knows exactly how she was hurt. In one instance, someone had given him a disgusted look, before she explained, insinuating that he'd inflicted the injury. He felt his gut churn with the thought.

"My eye hurts," she says, taking the seat next to him.

He grins. "Which one?"

"Cute." She gives him a vicious smile. "Get me some coffee."

"What's the magic word?"

"Get me some coffee...?"

He raises an eyebrow at her, waiting.

"Please?" Her voice has lightened.

"The real magic word is 'lotion' but I'll accept it cause you have a boo-boo eye." He climbs to his feet, and replies to her command, "I know what to do."

He pays for the coffee, one black, the other with two sugars, and ambles back to the table. He stands there for a moment, wondering if he's finally losing his mind. Maybe Jade drugged him, or Sikowitz is rubbing off on him, because the table's empty. Her bag's gone, too, and there's a girl standing where she had been a few moments before, holding an empty paper cup.

She stumbles over her words when he asks what happened. He doesn't comment, holding back his irritation, just grabs his bag and heads in the direction the girl pointed. He knows exactly how the rest of his day will go.

Back in the building, he heads down the main hallway to find the back of Jade's head, and Andre staring at her incredulously. He looks up, catches sight of Beck, and his eyes widen. Jade turns to see what he's looking at, and freezes. Beck does the same when he sees her face.

The black make-up running from her eye, down her cheek.

He lets out a heavy breath. Andre quietly runs off, and the bell rings few moments later, leaving the two of them in silence.

"Oh God," he breathes sullenly, rubbing at that spot along the bridge of his nose. "Please tell me this isn't for real."

Her mouth opens but she doesn't say a word.

"This is over the top. Even for you." He says. "Can't you just leave Tori alone? You seem devote so much time and energy to making her life miserable. Awesome how you lied to me, too."

"I was gonna tell you this morning, but...I didn't want to make you mad. You would never have known, things would have been fine..."

"I'm not gonna stand here and be continually bullshitted." He sighs. "I'll see you later."

He stalks off to his next class, and she doesn't follow him.

m m m

He doesn't see her for the rest of the day, and spends a quiet night in the RV watching TV and doing homework. It's almost welcome, because generally he considers himself an introvert, at home when he's alone. But under the circumstances, he feels the weight of her absence. She has become part of his introvert nature, a half of a whole. He smiles to himself, momentarily forgetting his problems, and thinking of a movie quote that went along those lines.

There's a knock at the door, and he assumes it's his mother. This is generally the time of night that she leaves the house to come tell him to do something, or not do something, or say good night. Jade would never knock, and he doubts that she is more willing to forgive than he is.

"Come in," he calls, without looking up from the TV.

The unlocked door opens silently, and a voice timidly calls out, "hey."

In retrospect, he may have had some inkling that it would be Jade to appear on his doorstep. Something about the situation is unusual to begin with, about their whole fight. The new girl Tori has only been here a few weeks, and already she has gotten under Jade's skin more than any other person on campus. And for Jade West, that's saying something. This is the first real, two-sided, argument they've had since her arrival, and for once it's not about jealousy or overprotectiveness or irritating habits, but about Jade doing something stupid and over the top. It just...unsettles him. How this girl is getting to Jade to the point where it effects him.

He looks up at her, mutes the TV and raises an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. "Hi."

Once again, she seems at a loss for words, and wonders if the novelty of a flustered Jade will ever wear off.

"Look," he begins. "I'm sorry I took off today. We should have stayed and talked, but I just had to cool down."

She closes her eyes for a moment, longer than a blink but not long enough to space out. "Don't apologize. I've had quite enough of people being unnecessarily nice today."

He doesn't prod into that statement. "Have you talked to Tori?"

"Yeah, I met her at her detention. It was inevitable that she would find out."

He runs a slow hand through his hair. "We need to figure something out, Jade."

She doesn't ask, just looks at him, waiting for him to continue.

"You need to find some kind of inner peace, even if Tori annoys the shit out of you. We can't go on with you freaking out around her like this. I don't intend to join your team and torture her, but I'm not going to break up with you over something ridiculous."

He finishes his little speech, which he'd rehearsed in his head all afternoon. She just looks at him, her face completely closed. Then her face seems to have some kind of convulsion, she scowls and then bites her hard, as though bracing for some kind of intense pain. She avoids his eyes.

"Sorry," she manages to grunt, barely making the two syllables. He knows she means it, though, and that's enough.

"It's okay," he lets his face fall into an easy smile. "let's just move on, yeah?"

"Yeah."

He holds his arms out to her, wiggles his fingers, and she gives a small smile before settling into his lap.

"Say you love me," she tells him.

"Magic word?"

"Lotion."

"Actually, now it's 'chinchilla'. But close enough." He shifts to whisper in her ear, "I love you."

She sighs and leans into him. A moment later, after he's un-muted the TV. "We're not watching this."

"What? I love this show."

"We're not watching this."

He half smiles, half smirks to himself. "Yes, dear."


	12. Commencement

**Author's Note: This is the end, folks! This is officially the last chapter of the fic. I would like to thank everyone who has reviewed, because this is the most reviews I've ever received. I've had a pretty awful couple of weeks outside fanfic, but you guys have made it infinitely better. I am sincerely grateful. Love you guys. :)**

"Beck!"

"It's open."

The RV door explodes open, and he looks up from his laptop to notice that it's raining outside.

_Hmm._ He thinks. _So that's how it happens. _

Lately he'd been wondering how he'd been missing all these rainstorms. It has been a wet spring, and more than often he'll walk across a soaked yard for dinner, with no memory of rain. With the door open, he realizes what it is—Fat Biscuit's bulletproof windows aren't letting any softer sounds in, like the sound of raindrops. He marvels momentarily at how he's lived in this RV for years and not noticed that.

His minds wanders away from the rain, and to the person standing in it.

Jade is dripping wet when she hurries across the threshold. He pulls the earbuds from his ears, The Black Keys trailing off in the middle of their song.

"What's up?" He asks.

She doesn't say anything, just collapses on his bed, dropping her purse by her feet. He sighs, thinking of his once clean sheets. He gets up from his perch on a chair across the room and strolls over to sit by her feet.

"You gonna tell me what's wrong?"

She gives him a look that says pretty clearly, _shut up, little man._

"So you came over here just to get wet in the storm and then lie on my bed?" He smiles, amused at her outraged expression. "Good logic."

She sits up slowly, rests her elbows on her bent knees, bringing her face close to his. He doesn't dare break eye contact.

"It all ends tomorrow," she says quietly. He climbs to his feet and lumbers toward the mini fridge across the room.

"Commencement doesn't mean ending." he replies. She gives him a look, and then hugs her knees to her chest. He looks at her softly. "But I know what you mean."

He takes the three strides back to her seat, and wraps his arms around her without reciprocation. He waits a few moments before she leans into him.

"What are we gonna do?" She mutters.

He sighs, then turns his head to look at her, feeling a strange expression spread across his face, something resembling worry and happiness. "I don't know."

m m m

Warm air swirls around the tiny bathroom as he steps from the shower, wet hair sticking to his face. He opens the door, letting in the colder air from the rest of the RV, and ties a towel around his lower half.

A splash of morning light is illuminating the bathroom, through the one small window. He leans against the sink, looks at the healing scar on his forehead, now just a slightly darker line on his tan colored skin. He looks at the phone on the counter, sees one new message from Jade.

_Why the fuck are there rocks in the back of your truck?_

He smiles, and for a moment the nervous clench in his stomach dissipates. He picks up the phone to text her back when the door bursts open.

Beck yelps, sliding backwards on the wet floor and crashing into the shower curtain.

"Ah ha!" His father cries, eyes blazing in the doorway. His enthusiasm lessens, though, when he sees Beck tangled in the shower curtain, trying to recover his phone from the water.

"How long are you gonna keep doing this?"

"Jade's car was outside..."

"We're carpooling to school. Her parents took her out to dinner last night, so she didn't come over." She had called him from the restaurant bathroom, almost in tears, telling of her father's subtle ridicule of her chosen profession. He tried to comfort her, but her mother had come in to get her. She hadn't been able to make it over to his place.

"Oh." His father frowns. "What time is the ceremony?"

"Mom knows. It's at ten."

His father looks at him for a moment, as though he can't quite believe that the man in front of him is his son.

Beck raises an eyebrow. "You gonna let me change?"

His father shakes his head quickly, then smiles. "Yeah, say good bye before you leave, okay?"

"But you're gonna be at the ceremony..."

"Yeah, but your mom wants to see you before you head off. Besides, afterwards you'll wanna be free to go get hammered with your friends and such."

"Dad, we're not gonna get hammered-"

"Son, I graduated high school once, you know. And knowing you, you'll be at parties for the rest of the week."

"Are you officially granting me a pass for under age drinking?"

"I'm not the one you have to worry about. I may give you a pass, but the cops won't."

"Oh."

His dad grins devilishly, and takes his leave.

Jade gets impatient waiting by the car, and comes inside as he's buttoning his pressed white shirt. She's in a fairly average purple dress, fitting to her curves nicely. Her hair is done intricately, her make-up flawless. He doesn't have any choice but to press his lips to hers when he sees her, if not just for moral support. Jade does not look noticeably nervous very often, but the anxiety is clear on her face this morning.

He slips into the black jacket, straightens his tie. Makes sure his hair is perfect, as always. He thinks that even if he doesn't make it in Hollywood, if one day he'll look back on his life and see the decline after leaving HA, at least he'll still have fabulous hair. He smiles ruefully at that. Jade ignores him.

He finishes by carefully stepping into his shoes. Once they are securely on his feet, he straightens, standing in the center of the RV, taking in every detail. He wonders how much of these last four years he'll remember in twenty years. Will he keep it clear enough in his mind to tell funny stories, inspiring anecdotes? To tell his children of his teenage adventures? He looks at Jade, perched on the side of his bed, a white knuckle grip on her clutch purse. He holds out a gentle hand to her, and after a moment she intertwines her fingers with his.

They trot across the yard to where his parents are waiting on the front stoop. His father reaches for his hand, but hugs him instead. He smiles at Jade, nodding to her. She returns it. It's probably the most successful interaction they'd ever had.

His mother steps forward. She cups his freshly shaven face in one hand, and he tries to ignore the tears in her eyes. You're not supposed to see your parents cry, even when you're about to become an adult. She hugs him tightly and he's not sure she has any intension of letting him go. Then, without hesitation, she hugs Jade too, and to his surprise, his girlfriend reciprocates.

"See you soon," is all his mother can manage to say. He simply nods.

He grabs Jade's hand again, and they wave as they stride down the front path to his waiting car.

"Why the rocks?" She asks, reaching for the seatbelt.

He glances at the gray stones in the back of the car. "Oh, you know my friend Mark? Well he needed somewhere to store his rocks, so I said I'd hold on to them for a while."

She just gives him a look, and then shakes her head. "Never mind."

He pulls on to the street, focusing just on driving. He's been a ridiculously careful driver lately, not doing anything that resembled multi tasking in the driver's seat. The scar on his forearm is a constant reminder of that stomach churning thought: _what if?_

At some point in the drive, Jade leans her head back and rubs at her temples. "Oh my god."

"You okay?"

She turns her eyes on him, and he's never seen such a lost look on her face. 'What are we gonna do, Beck?"

The question hangs in the air. They stand at the beginning, and at the end. The rest of their lives depending on their next step forward into the world.

He turns his head slowly, feeling what he knows to be a full blown smile creep upon his face. He meets her eyes, the grin lighting his whole body. He may have known at one point, but now he doesn't. Maybe he forgot. Maybe he chose to forget. He knew, and then he didn't.

"I have no idea."


End file.
